Just as the group came up to the restaurant's exit, Max suddenly grabbed Sturm by the arm and tugged him around the diving wall that separated the dining hall from the greeting area.
Having been jerked to the side without warning, Sturm gave his friend an annoyed glare. "What's wrong with you? Knock it-"
Max raised a finger in Sturm's face, cutting him off. "Shh, hold on a sec. You see what I'm seeing with these guys, right?"
Puzzled, Sturm placed his hands on his hips and tilted his head. "What guys? Who are you talking about?"
"Dietrich and his stupid SS goons, man."
"What about them, Max?" Sturm groaned, "I know how you feel about the SS, and I don't necessarily disagree, but we need to get along so the captain doesn't land in any more trouble."
Max gripped the open collar of Sturm's jacket and began to shake him with urgency. "Come on, are you serious?! That guy with all the wires on him is obviously a fuckin exceptional! They got him just walkin around in public and nobody cares! It's a total joke!"
It wasn't a baseless assumption. Exceptionals frequently stood out from the masses due to their unique physical characteristics or the tendency to wield weapons or equipment that complemented their supernatural abilities. There was little reason for your average human to be walking around in public wrapped in metal wire- let alone be patronizing a high-class restaurant that way.
"Even if that's the case," started Sturm, "it isn't like there's anything we can do about it. Mention it to the captain tomorrow."
"Nah, bullshit, man! We're Iron Knights, we can arrest people who break the law!" Max challenged, clenching his fists.
"First off..." said Sturm, "Stop yelling. They're right around the corner, what the hell are you thinking? Second, we are not Iron Knights, we're candidates. We can only arrest someone if Captain Scharf gives the order."
Placing his hands behind his head, Max tugged at his messy brown hair and huffed anxiously. "W-well, it doesn't have to be Captain Scharf, it could be any officer, right?"
"Yeah, I guess so..." said the swordsman, crossing his arms. "But what's your point, do you want to ask Major General Dietrich for permission to arrest his assistant?"
Max, realizing that he had steered his own argument into the realm of absurdity, was forced to relent. "Whatever. Ya know, I'm getting sick of all this weird SS shit. It just doesn't sit right with me, buddy."
Before Sturm could reply, Magnolia leaned around the corner with a suspicious look. "What in the Lord's name is taking you so long? Are you two kissing back here?"
"Hey, shut up!" Max raged as his face flushed blue with anger. "Why don't ya mind your own business for once, huh?!"
Magnolia covered her mouth to mask a giggle before swinging back around the divider and out of sight.
"I liked her better when she didn't want to talk to me... or when she was crying in her room..." growled Max.
"Alright, that's enough, Max. We need to go see what happened with the captain," said Sturm, turning away.
By the time the boys exited the establishment and found the others on the sidewalk outside, Major General Dietrich's inquisition had already begun. He was speaking with a female officer, somewhere between her late twenties and early thirties, who sported a long, furry, pastel green mantle and, most curiously, similarly-colored hair. Though the conversation was well underway, the troubling direction that it had taken quickly became apparent to Sturm.
"Are you aware of the cause, major?" questioned Dietrich, standing with his hands behind his back.
The woman, stiff at attention, shook her head slightly, careful to keep her eyes forward. "I am not, Mr. Major General- other than the consumption of copious amounts of alcohol, that is."
Dietrich gave a slow nod, pacing a few steps. "How many are injured and how gravely?"
"Fourteen, Mr. Major General," the woman answered, "with six requiring medical attention. All in stable condition."
"And the captain?"
"Unresponsive, but otherwise mostly unharmed," she explained.
A few meters down the sidewalk to Sturm's left sat the unconscious Scharf, leaning against the brick wall of the next establishment over. He was flanked by Dietrich's assistants on either side, standing watch for any abnormal behavior. Save for an abrasion on his lip and a light bruise beneath his eye, the captain seemed a far cry from a man who had supposedly taken part in a massive barroom brawl just moments earlier. With steel-capped heels clicking against the pavement, Dietrich walked over to Scharf and knelt down, intent on examining him.
Looking on from a short distance away, Sturm asked, "Is he alright, Mr. Major General?"
"Indeed, he is fine," said Dietrich, shifting back and forth as he scanned the captain. "Well, relative to his victims, anyway."
As if acting on a queue, the blare of ambulance sirens gradually came into earshot from the city block past the bar. Sturm pivoted and gazed down the sidewalk to see the emergency vehicle pull up to the establishment's entrance, several buildings down from where he currently stood, and begin to unload paramedics.
"It's most unfortunate, you know..." sighed Dietrich, rising back to a standing position. "Captain Scharf was once a revered Iron Knight, himself. To see him like this is quite heartbreaking."
"You know the captain?" asked Sturm, visibly surprised.
Dietrich returned a nod. "I do. As I explained earlier, I followed the success of your father and all of Wyvern Team very closely throughout the Great War. Your captain is responsible for the deaths of at least two dozen British, French, and American exceptionals."
"Two dozen?" Sturm marveled.
"Excuse me, Mr. Major General," Magnolia chimed in from behind Sturm, "With all due respect, this man struggled against us candidates in single combat earlier this morning. I fail to see any world where Captain Scharf was capable of dispatching such seasoned warriors."
With a solemn expression, Dietrich replied, "Tell that to the fourteen of my men he defeated with nary a scratch in return, and in a drunken stupor, no less."
Sturm felt a tingle run up his spine as he identified a rare opportunity. If the major general was as well-versed in the history of his father's Great War-era Iron Knight team as it seemed, he might also know of the circumstances surrounding Scharf's injuries and the ultimate fate of Erma. While it was unlike the young swordsman to pry into the personal histories of others, his captain's erratic behavior gave cause for further explanation.
"Mr. Major General, would it be possible for me to ask you a few questions about Wyvern Team?" Sturm inquired.
"Of course," said Dietrich with a warm smile. "You will need to call for a car back to the academy, regardless, so why don't I accompany you to the nearest payphone and we can speak along the way?"
Finding this proposition agreeable, Sturm started down the sidewalk toward the bar with the major general at his side, leaving his team to wait in the company of Dietrich's guards and the female officer. As could be expected, it wasn't long before Max began to complain.
"Hey, so what the hell are we just standing around for, anyway?" Max groaned, leaning against the brick wall.
Gustavo raised an eyebrow. "Do we need more than two people to find a pay phone?"
"Nah, but what if they get attacked by the murderer? It's nighttime. That's when he comes out, right?"
"Which is precisely why you are going to wait here," said Magnolia. "That way, if he does turn up, I might use you as a shield while I escape."
"I doubt you need to concern yourself with that," the female officer spoke up, "The killer's profile indicated he only strikes lone women."
Somewhat annoyed by the interjection, Max turned to the woman. "I'm sorry, who are you again?"
"Major Luna, and last time I checked, candidates don't outrank me, so you'd better check your tone."
Gritting his teeth, Max hunched over and wiped a bead of nervous sweat from his brow. "Y-yeah... Major, right. So, uh... what's your job, here?"
"I'm the Moonlight Watch knight for this section of the city. Between the killings and the bombings, the Iron Knight Command decided to assign each of us our own area to patrol past sundown. Until tonight, it was uneventful."
"What's this?" said Magnolia, stepping between Max and the major. "You're an Iron Knight, are you?"
Luna rolled her eyes and swept her bangs behind her ear. "Major Luna; the Luminous Lady."
"The what?" Max cackled, clutching his puncture wound as it throbbed with his laughter, "That sounds ridiculous! What does it even mean?"
In an instant, Luna's mantle unfurled into two great, moth-like wings with prominent eyespots in each quadrant. As quickly as Max glanced toward the pattern, he felt the weight of his eyelids increase substantially. Within seconds, he collapsed into a deep, snoring slumber. Magnolia, quickly averted her gaze, keen on avoiding a similar fate.
"Oh dear, it appears your friend must have eaten himself into a food coma," sighed the major, "I suppose that I can permit him to sleep there until your car arrives."
Still blocking her eyes, Magnolia chuckled under her breath. "I suppose that explains your gaudy fashion choice, major. That is quite an impressive aberrance. I'm most curious if those wings actually work."
"Work? As in let me fly? What good would they be if they didn't? Unfortunately, I'm under orders not to do so unless it's absolutely necessary. Iron Knight command would prefer that I didn't put an entire city block to sleep without adequate reason."
"My, the tragedy of the caged bird," Magnolia giggled. "Now, if you'd be so kind as to put those away..."
Luna's wings shivered as they stretched to their full length at her sides, like two powder-coated sails. "Why? You look like you could use a good night's sleep."
Magnolia was not pleased. "Oh, yes? Might I inquire what exactly you're implying, major?"
"Just that you look a little run down, that's all."
"Run down?"
"Alright, enough," said Gustavo, grabbing Magnolia's shoulder and turning her away from Major Luna. "Why are you starting a fight with an Iron Knight?"
"I'm not!" scoffed Magnolia, "She is, don't you hear her?! She's no better than a child!"
Amid their argument, two patrons exited the nearby restaurant and, upon laying eyes on the major, promptly passed out on the spot.
Shit, the major thought to herself, frantically curling the wings back around her shoulders and into the shape of a mantle.
Remaining at watch over the unconscious Scharf, Section Leader Eldrich took in the chaotic scene before him through narrowed eyes, grumbling under his breath, "You Iron Knights are nothing but a damned embarrassment..."
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